Love in an Elevator
by Angelic Guardian
Summary: Cartman and Wendy get stuck in an elevator together. They spend the entire time fighting, and eventually tensions become so high to a point where Cartman just can't take it anymore. Oneshot.


Author's note: Two teachers got stuck in the elevator at my school not too long ago. So I decided to place Cartman and Wendy in that same situation, since I find this particular pairing to be rather interesting. (I'm not gonna lie, I was kinda hoping that Cartman and Wendy were just gonna start intensely making out in that last Cartman flashback in _Fishsticks_. XD)

Disclaimer: South Park © Trey Parker and Matt Stone. Love in an Elevator © Aerosmith.

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"This is un-FUCKING-believable!" Wendy cried in exasperation. She pounded the silver elevator doors with her fists. Her hands glided down the surface until they dropped to either side of her, lying limp. She shot a look at the overweight boy who was trapped with her. He was busy pressing every single button on the elevator wall. They each lit up one at a time, but nothing happened.

"Stop it, you idiot!" Wendy said quickly as she tugged on Cartman's sleeve. "That's just gonna make it worse!"

"AY!" Cartman yelled. He tried to shake off Wendy's grip. "Quit it, bitch! I know what I'm doing!"

"Don't call me a bitch, you prick!" Wendy snapped back at him. She let go of his sleeve and took a glance at her watch. "Fuck…the reception starts in fifteen minutes!"

"No! I don't wanna miss the food!" Cartman exclaimed. He had pushed the last elevator button, and now he stared at all of them, disappointed that his effort to get the elevator running again had failed.

"Are you honestly thinking about food right now? We have more important things to worry about right now, you fat son of a bitch!" Wendy shouted, her frustration getting the better of her.

Cartman couldn't help but feel somewhat offended. "For your information, you fucking whore, I haven't eaten in like 45 minutes!"

"Oh, EXCUSE ME! You know, there are children in Africa who are forced to go DAYS without eating! They're starving to death, you fucking ignorant bastard!" Wendy snarled. She put a hand to her forehead, almost as if to knock some sense into herself. "Oh God, WHY did I choose to take the elevator?!"

"Because you're fucking stupid?" Cartman suggested.

"I wasn't fucking talking to you!" Wendy instinctively lashed out. "And that would make YOU fucking stupid too!"

"Hey, I'm not stupid, ho!" Cartman retaliated. "I just didn't feel like taking the stairs, that's all."

"Well, that sure as hell isn't a surprise," Wendy remarked. "You're too fucking fat to even walk up the stairs." She leaned against the wall and slid down until she hit the floor.

Cartman crossed his arms. "So…you're just gonna sit there?"

Wendy didn't move, and she instead decided to just give Cartman a dirty look. "Screw you. I don't know how to get this fucking elevator to start working again. We're just going to have to wait for help."

"You know what…" Cartman searched through his jacket pocket and drew out his cell phone. "I'LL handle this," he said as he dialed a number on it. There was a moment of silence until somebody answered a few seconds later. "Hola, Raul?" Cartman spoke with his Spanish accent. "Este es Cartman…sí, sí…escucha, estoy en un ascensor en la recepción de boda…sí, ayúdeme…gracias, señor." He hung up the cell phone and slipped it back into his pocket.

Wendy stared at him, dumbfounded. "You speak Spanish? And who the hell was that, anyway?" she asked out of curiosity.

"That was my Mexican friend, Raul," Cartman rolled the R when he said the name. "I told him we were stuck in the elevator at this gay wedding reception."

Wendy disregarded the fact that he had just insulted the occasion that they were both supposed to be attending in a matter of minutes. "Well, how long is it gonna take for him to get us out of here?"

"How the hell should I know? All I know is that Mexicans are pretty quick when it comes to mechanical stuff," Cartman informed her. "They aren't really good for much else."

She shook her head in disappointment. "You're so Goddamn racist."

Cartman smirked. He simply could not deny a true statement like that. "Yeah, well, at least I fucking called for help," he justified the situation. He plopped down in the corner opposite of Wendy. "So you can't bitch me out anymore. Seriously, you need to learn how to control your PMS."

After he said that, Wendy immediately jumped up from where she was sitting. "FUCK YOU! I'M NOT PMSING!" she protested furiously.

Cartman continued smiling, amused to see that Wendy was getting so upset. "Yeah, whatever, skank," he responded.

Wendy finally approached him and grabbed him with both hands by his shirt collar. "I swear to God, I'll fucking kick your ass. Right here, right now."

"Oh, PLEASE, as if you could really kick my ass a second time," Cartman challenged.

Wendy still held onto his shirt. She bent her face closer to his. "I could KILL you," she proclaimed with total confidence in her voice.

It was at that very moment that Cartman realized he could practically hear his own heart beating loudly in his chest. His breathing grew heavier as he gazed up at Wendy, only a few inches apart from him. He took a hold of her hands and pushed them off of him.

"Yeah, I don't think so," he said as he stood up and fixed his shirt. "You know, I didn't want to tell you this, but I just let you win that last time."

Wendy chuckled. "Yeah, okay, and I find you attractive."

Cartman raised his eyebrows, and for a split second, he felt his heart skip a beat. He caught himself and proceeded to play along. "I knew you couldn't resist my charm. All chicks secretly want me. I have that kind of effect on them."

"Shut up," Wendy ordered in more of a joking manner rather than a serious one. "I was kidding."

"Sure you were," Cartman concurred sarcastically. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

Wendy rolled her eyes, her impatience gradually rising again. "Oh my God, you're so conceited!"

"It's not my fault that I'm so awesome," Cartman claimed as he began fiddling with the red tie he was wearing. He loosened it around his neck.

"What are you doing?" Wendy asked in a confused tone.

Cartman struggled to untie the loop. "Taking off this Goddamn tie," he answered after he managed to untangle the knot he had created. He finally took it off and tossed it aside. "Much better. I hate that we have to get all dressed up for these stupid things."

Wendy absentmindedly fondled with her own collar once she observed that Cartman had unbuttoned his. She glanced down at her outfit, a pink dress, and then she looked back at Cartman, who went on complaining. "I mean, who even cares that these two assholes just got married? God, I fucking hate weddings."

"So, I guess you don't plan on ever getting married then," Wendy surmised. She ceased playing with her dress collar the second Cartman looked at her.

"Hell no. I could never put up with some bitch nagging at me every single day for the rest of my life," Cartman explained. "All girls are the same. They'll whine about stupid shit, like if a guy doesn't notice their dumb new haircut. And then they'll cry about it and get all bitchy."

"Well, it's pretty annoying when a guy is too fucking oblivious to even notice when a girl goes through all of this trouble to look nice," Wendy fumed.

"Alright, alright, you look nice. Jesus Christ," Cartman hastily offered the compliment.

"What?" Wendy squeaked, taken aback. "No, no, I didn't mean that…" she began to say, but stopped when she came to the realization that she would just be sounding stupid. She had to consider the option that perhaps Cartman was actually being sincere. "Well, uh, thank you," she muttered, blushing slightly.

"Yeah, sure, no problem," Cartman replied, also turning red. He attempted to make it seem inconspicuous by casually stuffing his hands in his pockets. He was baffled when he felt something in one of the pockets. He took out the item and beamed when he saw what it was. "Aww, sweet, I forgot I had these," he said excitedly.

"A bag of Skittles?" Wendy didn't see what the big deal was at all.

Cartman ripped the bag open with his teeth. "Nuh uh, SOUR Skittles," he specified. "These things are the shit." He poured a few of the sugary candies into his hand and popped them into his mouth.

"You know, that stuff is pure sugar. It has no nutritional value whatsoever," Wendy forced her useless knowledge on him.

"Who cares?" Cartman retorted. He poured another handful into his hand, this time holding it out in Wendy's direction.

Wendy reluctantly opened her palm, where Cartman dumped the Skittles in. "Thanks," she said under her breath. "But I'm only eating them because I'm hungry, and I don't know how much longer we're going to be stuck in here."

"Whatever," Cartman expressed his indifference. "Shouldn't be much longer." He peered inside the bag, now half empty.

"Yeah, but what if we're trapped in here for hours?" Wendy worried, chewing on the Skittles only one at a time.

"Why, are you _scared_ or something?" Cartman mocked.

"I'm not scared!" Wendy defended herself. "I just hate being stuck in here with you!"

"Oh, REALLY?! 'Cause I just LOVE being in here with a crazy fucking bitch!" Cartman sneered. "Goddammit, you're seriously starting to piss me off."

"Don't fucking talk to me like that, asshole!" Wendy warned him.

"God, just SHUT UP," Cartman begged, putting his hands to his head.

"WHY DON'T YOU FUCKING MAKE ME?!"

"FINE!" Cartman bellowed, ready to explode. He slammed down his bag of Sour Skittles, causing the remainder of them to spill out and scatter across the floor. He took a step toward Wendy.

Then, in one swift motion, he cupped Wendy's face with his hands and pulled her in for a long kiss. Wendy nearly choked on her own breath out of complete shock by the abrupt action. Her initial reaction was to resist the kiss, but at the same time, she liked the taste of the fruity flavors that lingered on Cartman's lips from the Skittles. She liked how his hands were traveling down to her lower back while he went on kissing her. The feelings of lust and passion took over as Wendy slowly found herself closing her eyes and returning the kiss.

Just as things were really getting heated between them, the sound of a bell went off, signifying that the elevator doors were about to open up. Cartman and Wendy broke apart as soon as the doors slid open, their lips now tingling from the sour sensation. They each tried to gain back control of their fast breathing.

"Qué?" a bewildered man inquired.

Cartman and Wendy exchanged glances. Cartman cleared his throat, then commanded Raul, in Spanish, to get the hell out of there.

Raul stared at the two of them, both looking disheveled and sweaty. "You two…getting it on, yes?" he asked in a bad English accent.

Cartman's eyes widened. He looked over at Wendy, who slowly nodded her head in response to the question.

Raul smiled and headed out the door, giving them the privacy they both wanted. Cartman and Wendy grinned at each other as the elevator doors shut once again, sealing them away from everyone else, where they were free to kiss some more.

And the best part was that they were the only ones who would ever truly know what happened inside that elevator.

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**EDIT: **I DON'T KNOW WHOSE WEDDING IT WAS. (And seriously, does it really matter?) I wrote this fic over three years ago and just randomly re-read it along with the reviews today, and I just felt the need to finally clear that up.**  
**

Also, in my mind, Cartman and Wendy are nine years old in this, but I suppose their exact age isn't all that important.

So, yeah. Peace.


End file.
